


A Pinch of Patience

by buttchester



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chef AU, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Major character injury - off-screen, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-15 13:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11806716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttchester/pseuds/buttchester
Summary: Lee Taeyong used to live his dream, but after an accident, he's forced to walk around Seoul with a cane and a bum knee. He now works a boring retail job just to make ends meet. After overhearing a conversation, he signs up for a cooking class to take his mind off things and winds up meeting a chef with a bright smile who makes everything seem a little better.





	A Pinch of Patience

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the prompter enjoys what I came up with for this. I hope it doesn't feel as rushed as I think it is. Thank you to the mods for putting this together and giving me an opportunity to bring out the good swift kick in the pants I needed to write again! Also, thank you to B who spent the time to look this over for me as I panicked. I appreciate this so much.

_I’m sorry, but even after surgery, it is inadvisable to fully go back to your job._

That sentence haunted Taeyong even now, four months later and walking through his first week of physiotherapy. The physiotherapist had lead him through exercises he had to do daily and on days that he came in – which was three days a week for the next eight weeks and then it would go down until he would no longer have to go – and was hooking his left knee up to the weird pulse machine. She said the name but honestly Taeyong just did not have the braincells to remember it.

Wrapping his knee up in a warm wrap, she set the timer and told him to relax. He played on his phone as his knee was pulsed in waves of strong to weak. He was listening to the massage therapist talk with the older lady two tables away about cooking.

“I tell you, I had the greatest fun at the class,” the massage therapist said, “and ohhh, that assistant chef was so handsome and charming.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely. I would love to take a class but I don’t know. I’d rather not have some hoity toity ‘I went to culinary school’ person teaching me,” the lady on the table said.

“Oh, no. They weren’t like that! I swear they were the nicest people. I’ve been cooking since I was eight and when I preferred a different way to prep something they let me be!”

“Hm, I don’t know…”

“Please, take the Italian night course they do every Thursday. I don’t think I’ve ever had anything quite like what they teach you!”

Taeyong stopped fiddling on his phone and turned to look at the women. “Excuse me, where are these classes?”

The massage therapist stopped massaging the older lady’s shoulders to turn to look at Taeyong. “Oh, at Hwajung restaurant and café! You can sign up online or go as a drop-in, but the classes fill up fast so sign up online.”

“What district is it in?”

“Seocho, dearie,” she replied.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Taeyong nodded his head in her direction and quickly looked up the place on his phone. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment when he heard the whispers of ‘oh, he was so handsome’ pass between the two women. The timer went off while he was signing up and paying for the class on Friday – a BBQ class – and he felt relieved, he didn’t think he could handle more attention than he had already faced.

An assistant came over, unwrapped his knee and took off the patches. He passed Taeyong his cane and brace and Taeyong was sent on his way.

He grabbed a cab back to his lonely apartment. His roommate, Yuta, was out at practice – practice Taeyong would have been at not four months earlier. As he hobbled his way to the couch, he mourned his dream and lost career. He honestly had no idea what he was going to do. He had managed to find a small part time job to cover extraneous costs that his savings and money his parents gave him couldn’t.

Granted, it was with a family friend who needed a person to man the cash register of his little stationery store, but it paid enough and he didn’t have to move much. For that, Taeyong and his former cast were thankful.

Taeyong loosened his brace and settled his leg on the couch, sighing deeply. He’d have to do some light stretches later before bed, but for now, it was time for a good old depression nap.

He woke up seven hours later to the noise of someone in the kitchen and singing in Japanese. He blinked blearily and looked over at the well-lit kitchen, seeing Yuta dancing around as he cooked and just enjoyed life.

“Yuta?” His voice croaked and he winced. Swallowing, he tried again, and it was a bit louder.

The Japanese man startled and looked over at Taeyong with wide eyes. “Oh, hey. Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. I probably shouldn’t sleep so much,” Taeyong pulled himself up and situated his leg back on the pillow he used to elevate his leg.

“You really shouldn’t. These pity naps you take aren’t helping you one bit… You need a new hobby,” Yuta said as he stirred whatever he had on the burner.

“Ah, well,” Taeyong got himself off the couch and hobbled over to the kitchen, “I think I have a solution. I signed up for a cooking class on Friday, and I’ve been cleared to wander around for short distances without the cane.”

“Oh, thank god! If I had to cook for much longer, _I_ was gonna go and break _my_ own leg!” Yuta raised his hands in the air dramatically. Taeyong reached out and landed a half-hearted punch on Yuta’s shoulder. “What’s the theme? French bistro? Italian?”

“Good ol’ American barbecue,” Taeyong answered.

Yuta crinkled his nose. “That’s boring, what the hell?”

“I’ve never done American barbecuing before and Italian sounded… predictable so…” He shrugged and reached over to toss the chopped mushrooms into the pan.

“Ehh!! Wash your hands, you heathen!” Yuta yelled, and Taeyong laughed, heading to the sink to do just that.

“What’s on the menu, Chef?”

Yuta sniffed and side eyed his roommate and former co-worker. “Yuta’s magic fried rice.”

Taeyong grinned and did his best to set the little table they had and set out the side dishes while Yuta did the main dish. It was probably the best night they had together since Taeyong got injured, and Taeyong really appreciated it. He tried telling Yuta before he went to sleep but the other just waved him off and patted his shoulder before disappearing into his room.

Taeyong stayed awake for a few more hours before remembering he had a shift in the early afternoon, and decided to go to bed in his room. Right before he fell asleep he looked around at the half-torn dancing posters that still were attached to his walls.

Grimacing, he grabbed his other pillow and shoved it over his face. He hated sleeping in his bedroom. The couch was less judgmental.

~*~*~*~

Taeyong stepped off the bus and headed down the block to reach Hwajung. When he arrived, he saw the sign directing people upstairs for the class beside a metal staircase leading up to the next floor. He stared at the steps for a second before sighing and putting his good foot onto the first step.

He had to go one step at a time, and he had made it five steps before a voice startled him from his momentum.

“Um, if you need it, there is an elevator inside.”

Taeyong jerked and grabbed the railing as he whipped his head around to stare at the guy standing at the bottom of the stairs. They both just stared at each other, the guy looked a bit shocked then sheepish, and it took Taeyong a second to realise the guy thought he must have been older due to the cane in his hand and his frizzy white hair.

“Or not. Do you, bro,” the guy said with a shrug and went in through the front entrance into the actual restaurant part of the building.

Taeyong mouthed ‘bro’ and wondered what the hell the guy said in English. Sighing, he went back to his task of getting up the stairs, slightly glad he could say he hadn’t avoided them next time he saw his physiotherapist. Didn’t stop him from feeling wiped just from going up one flight of stairs though.

Taeyong made it up to the second floor and followed the signs to a beautifully large room filled with little cooking stations that reminded Taeyong of a nicer home economics room from school.

He went over to a station in the middle of the room that was free and groaned in relief at the sight of a stool sitting nicely beside the counter. He slid onto it and propped his bad leg up onto the foot rest, leaning his cane against the station. He slipped off his sweater and set it in his lap when he realised the coat rack was back by the door. He’d sit for a bit before moving to put it over there.

He watched as assistants were setting baskets and aprons out on each station, and warning each participant to not touch the grill plate on the stove as they were preheating. One assistant stopped at Taeyong’s station just to tell him that he didn’t have to move much if he didn’t want to, he could slide the stool wherever but he would have to still follow rules and stay safe and Taeyong thanked them.

Yuta would never allow Taeyong a stool, so it was nice to know he could sit while watching the food cook.

When it was five to, the guy from the stairs came in carrying a chef’s jacket over his shoulder with a large black cylinder tucked under his arm and took a spot at the front of the room. He set his cylinder down and looked at the clipboard on his station as he slipped on the coat and did it up.

Taeyong was kind of taken aback that Stair Guy was the teacher for today’s class.

He just stared intently as the guy slid on a hairband to push his longer hair out of his face, all while never looking away from the clipboard. When the clock hit zero, he clapped his hands and looked up to survey the room with a handsome smile.

“Welcome everyone! I’m your instructor today, you can call me Chef Johnny – or Youngho – whichever you choose,” he announced, “Usually I’m the assistant but our usual instructor is ill, so please bear with me! I’m going to just do attendance and we can start with our cooking fun. When I call your name, you can tell us what brought you here.”

He read out the names, and when Taeyong heard his name, he felt his own voice crack before he coughed and said, “here!” with a raised hand. “I’m just… here for fun.”

Chef Johnny made eye contact with him and there was a bit of a spark of recognition in his eye as he nodded and checked off Taeyong’s name, then moved to the next.

Most of the people there were women, ranging from age 20 to 65 while Johnny and Taeyong were the only men there. Taeyong shyly lowered his head when he saw a couple of the girls around his age whispering as they glanced at him.

He wished he could put his sweater back on and put his hood up but he had a feeling it would be frowned upon. Oh, that reminded him to go put his sweater on the coat rack. He slipped off the stool and without his cane, walked over to the side of the room. He tried not to look at anyone as he passed by, and when he realised that Johnny was done calling names, Taeyong panicked.

He moved a little too sharply and felt a twinge go up and down his leg and he let out a soft whimper. The woman whose station was by the coat area, looked at him in concern and he just awkwardly smiled at her as he gripped her counter, not moving for fear of hurting himself again. Biting his lip, he knew he had to go back because the first instruction given was to put on your apron then wash your hands but he really could not move his leg.

When a shadow cast over him, Taeyong looked up to see Chef Johnny towering over him – wow, this guy was tall.

“Do you need help getting back to your station?”

And he was very abrupt.

Taeyong shook his head on instinct, not wanting to inconvenience him. Johnny raised a brow as if he knew that Taeyong was lying and held out his arm, moving to stand beside him.

“Come on, just lean on me and hop on over so you can start the class.”

Taeyong let out a breath and nodded, moving his leg enough to hold it off the ground, and placed his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. The other wrapped his arm around Taeyong’s back and grabbed him underneath the arm with a surprisingly sturdy grip.

It kind of reminded Taeyong of the times when he’d be lifted for certain moves by Hansol from the company, who was probably just as tall and strong as Johnny.

Taeyong feebly hopped back with Johnny’s help to his station, holding tightly onto the shoulder under his palm. As they were making way, Johnny was telling everyone to take out a couple of bowls from cupboard one as well as a cutting board from drawer two.

When they got to the stool, Taeyong let out the most pathetic squeak in his life as he was practically lifted completely off the ground completely to be sat down on the stool. He looked wide eyed at Johnny, shocked by his actions because the man had just lifted Taeyong’s entire body weight with one arm.

“Holy shit,” Taeyong said when he felt he could finally talk, only to slap his hand over his mouth at his crassness. Johnny let out a laugh.

“Okay, first things, first, put on your apron, wash your hands then pull some bowls out from here,” Johnny said as he tapped the cupboard by Taeyong’s knee, then tapped a drawer to Taeyong’s right, “and the cutting board form here.”

Taeyong nodded and Johnny left with a soft smile that honestly reminded Taeyong of a hamster. He slipped on the apron and washed his hands incredibly thoroughly in record breaking time in order to pull out the bowls and cutting board before the next instruction was given.

“Okay, so before we begin I’m going to show everyone the recipe!” Johnny stated as he went up to the front to pull a roll up screen back up to show a neatly written recipe up on the board. “The recipe is in your basket if you are having trouble seeing it on the board, so grab that if you want, and let’s get started on making some bomb grilled chicken cordon bleu!”

Johnny was hilarious, kind and helpful during the whole thing. He spoke loudly and clearly and, just like the massage therapist had said, was unobtrusive if you had certain ways of doing things. He also reminded everyone to wash their hands after handling the raw chicken before moving onto other things so no one got sick.

When it came time to chop up the veggies to grill them, Taeyong was amazed at how quickly and neatly Johnny worked. The black cylinder was unwrapped and it turned out to be a holding all of Johnny’s knives. Taeyong stared down at his unevenly cut pieces and up at the uniform ones Johnny held as an example and let out a chuckle. There was definitely a difference between trained and untrained cooks.

Taeyong found himself having fun despite being stuck on a stool for 75% of the class, but when it was all over, Taeyong stared at his plate of grilled chicken cordon bleu and grilled veggies and had never felt prouder. It wasn’t as pretty as the one Johnny made, but man, Taeyong needed to take a picture and post it on his SNS.

He took a few pictures and was a bit startled when he noticed everyone leaving their stations to head to the long table in the back.

He shyly picked up his plate and slowly followed behind the lady whose station had been in front of his. He took a spot over to the side, and was a bit shocked when Johnny sat beside him.

“I hope everyone enjoys their hard work today. Bon appétit~!”

Sitting down to eat with everyone turned out to be nice, everyone chatted and enjoyed the food they had made. Taeyong found himself smiling genuinely for the first time in a very long time. He found that the chicken cordon bleu was so delicious. The cheese was creamy and stringy and melded well with the prosciutto and chicken, and with a little bit of grilled lemon squeezed on top of the fresh arugula, it made it even better. He was honestly in heaven as he steadily ate the dish.

Johnny even turned out to be quite hilarious as he answered questions from the other participants.

“Did you study in America? Is that why you have a Western name?” one grandmother asked and Johnny replied with a chuckle.

“I was born in Chicago actually. So, it’s my real name, really. Well, a nickname of my real name.” He laughed again nervously. “But, uh, enough about me. I think I’ve dominated this meal enough.”

“Oh, Taeyong oppa,” one of the younger girls, Youngmi, spoke up, “why do you have a cane?”

Taeyong immediately turned red, his smile fading away, and looked down at his nearly empty plate.

“Yah, Youngmi, don’t ask stuff like that!” Her friend Soojin lightly smacked her before looking at Taeyong and apologising. “Sorry, she’s not very good at social interaction. You don’t have to answer.”

“A young, handsome thing like you shouldn’t have a cane. It’s a shame, really,” one of the elder women added in and Taeyong just felt himself shrinking in his seat. He really didn’t want to answer and all the attention was just freaking him out.

“I think maybe I should put the spotlight back on me, and just say that I am very thankful you guys were such a great class. When you’re all done eating, please place your dishes in the bins along the side over here, and please fill out the little survey cards before you leave just so we can get feedback on our class today and let me know how I did. We at Hwajung restaurant and café will appreciate it if you do!”

Taeyong quickly shoved the last bite of cordon bleu into his mouth and took a gulp of the water he had left in his cup and got up. He had to get away as fast as he could. He moved faster than he had in the last few months before The Accident and made it to his coat, before realising he was going to leave without his cane.

His face was on fire and he stumbled back to his station where his cane still rested against the counter. He also grabbed the paper that had the recipe on it, and before he could finally make his escape, Johnny stepped forward and in a low voice said, “I’ll show you to the elevator.”

“Thanks,” Taeyong said thickly, and followed Johnny down the hall to a little secluded area.

“Hit M, and just hang a left once you’re out of the elevator. I hope that the table experience didn’t upset you too much. I’d be happy if you returned,” Johnny said as he hit the down button. “It’s not often we get guys our age coming in for fun by themselves. It was nice meeting you, Taeyong-ssi. Thank you for coming today.”

Before he returned to the classroom, Johnny pulled a card out of his pocket. “Here, if you do come next time, use the code on the back of this to get 30% off the class. Have a good day!”

Taeyong gently held the card in his free hand and looked down at it. It was a business card and like Johnny said, there was a handwritten code on the back. The elevator dinged right when Taeyong looked up in the direction Johnny left. He pocketed the card and entered the cabin.

~*~*~*~

It was about three weeks later that Yuta got testy and told Taeyong to get out of the house before he “angsted up everything so much that it kills us both in our sleep.”

Taeyong ended up booking a last-minute spot in the Hwajung cooking class when he found the card in his jacket pocket as he sat on the bus with no destination in mind. The class theme was French Bistro and he was honestly lucky a spot had been dropped just before he had signed up for it.

He spent the next couple of hours riding the bus, then in a park a couple of blocks away doing what exercises he could before he wandered over to Hwajung.

He did take the stairs up to the classroom and grabbed a station furthest in the back, making sure to hang up his jacket when he arrived to avoid any situations.

The assistants started coming around to pass out the ingredients, and lo and behold, a wild Johnny came zipping into the room, chef jacket on but undone with no knife cylinder. He quickly joined the other assistants in passing out bins and just conversing with the students.

It seemed like he was just the assistant today and Taeyong smiled softly at seeing the taller man walk around the classroom with ease and a wide smile. The girl who gave him his bin this time was the same as the last time.

“Oh! Hello, welcome back! Almost didn’t recognise you with your new hair colour” she greeted with pink lips stretched wide. Taeyong bowed his head and gently patted at his two-week-old new hair colour. It was a dark brown that looked a bit more natural than the shocking white he had had before.

“Johnny oppa!”

Oh. Oh no, she called Johnny over. Taeyong panicked.

When the taller male came over, Taeyong nodded at him shyly, knowing his tongue wouldn’t work well. The girl left to finish her job.

“Taeyong-ssi! Hello!” Johnny clapped his hands and was smiling so wide that he reminded Taeyong of a hamster – a giant one. “You did come back!”

“I… got kicked out and needed something to do.” Taeyong cringed. He did not need to be that candid – stupid Taeyong, stupid!

Johnny’s smile faltered a bit, “Kicked out?”

“Um, my roommate told me I was too angsty,” Taeyong said truthfully, and was surprised when Johnny let out a little laugh.

“Well, I’m glad you thought of us to remove some of that angst,” Johnny said, “so hopefully today goes well. I’ve gotta finish up but I’ll be around to help. Don’t be afraid to ask.”

Taeyong nodded and started digging in his bin for the recipe sheet, and noticed that it was pretty much all vegetables for today. He read the recipe title and saw a word he hadn’t seen in awhile - ‘Ratatouille Tart with Caramelised Onion-Tomato Jam and Sautéed Mushrooms’.

Ratatouille – like the movie! This made Taeyong a little happy. He had enjoyed that spunky little mouse and even got a bit teary when the food critic became a kind, lovely person after the restaurant had been shut down. The ending made him feel happy inside.

He smiled as he read through the instructions, subconsciously chewing on his nail.

The instructor arrived earlier than Johnny, carrying a similar roll up knife sheath that Johnny had had the few weeks before. Taeyong had looked up when he showed up, and realised he would have been the actual instructor for last time, had it not been for him falling ill.

He was an older man, with a few strands of grey peppering his black hair and was wearing a black chef’s coat. When he made it to the front, Johnny, who was standing up front as well, pulled the same headband from last time out and put it on.

Taeyong found himself staring at the smooth way in which Johnny pushed back his hair and arranged it afterward. He barely blinked as the two talked and discussed the schedule.

“Oppa!” A loud voice chirped right by his ear.

Taeyong yelped and flailed, his stool dangerously tipping to the side. He grabbed the counter to stop himself from falling and hurting himself and he took in deep breaths to calm his heart. He turned to see a red faced Youngmi staring at him in shock.

“Sorry, sorry, so sorry,” she said, reaching out to touch him but stopped when he flinched. Taeyong righted himself and from his hunched position, turned to look at her with wide eyes.

“Hi, Youngmi-ssi,” he greeted in a small voice.

“H-hi… It’s nice to see you again. I’m gonna,” she pauses, “go back to my spot. Bye, Oppa.”

She scampered off, leaving Taeyong to curl in on himself and avoid anyone else’s gaze because he knew he had been loud enough to attract attention.

“You okay?” A large hand pressed itself solidly against his back, and Taeyong nodded. He really didn’t want to look Johnny in the eye.

“Just embarrassed,” he mumbled in reply, and he felt his face turn red when the hand rubbed his back slightly before stopping.

“We’ll start soon; today’s recipe is one of my favourite vegetarian meals.” The hand disappeared and the presence behind him did too.

Taeyong played on his phone until the instructor called for everyone’s attention. He pocketed the device, and turned his attention to the front. Roll call was done, and everyone set out to wash their hands and put on their aprons. They started with the pastry, then the jam, before moving on to prep the veggies and mushrooms.

Taeyong found himself standing more this time around, moving around as he layered the jam on the bottom of his handmade pastry. Someone had put on music in the background and Taeyong found himself slowly bobbing to the sounds of The Weeknd as he layered his veggies in a nice pattern like Remy had done in the movie.

When his tart was in the oven, he started on the mushrooms as described, and when he tasted one once it was cooked, he was excited. The choice of spices wasn’t one he was familiar with but it just made his tongue happy. He set the pan aside, covered and wandered over to the drink area to grab himself some water.

Other people were drinking wine, but with Taeyong’s meds he took for his knee, he was forbidden to drink and there wasn’t any sparkling juice as a substitute. He had tried drinking one night back during the first month of being trapped in the plaster cast, but it left him feeling like death for a week, so he wasn’t going to try again.

“Did you want anything else besides water?”

He didn’t jump, thankfully, and looked up at Johnny.

“Don’t tell anyone but I can go sneak you some soju or beer,” he said in a low voice with a mischievous grin.

“Ah,” Taeyong looked at his water and said, “I can’t have alcohol… It messes with my medication.”

“Oh, so would any soda or juice be better?” Johnny was quick to offer other choices.

“Um, do you have any apple juice?” Taeyong asked.

“Yeah, yeah, we do, lemme go grab some. I’ll be back in a bit. Go check and see how your tart is doing.” Johnny ushered him back to his station and he quickly left the room.

Taeyong walked back to his stool and sat there sipping on water until Johnny came back carrying a large glass full of cola, but no juice in sight. Johnny made a beeline around the classroom, just poking by to see if anyone needs help before he looped around to Taeyong’s back corner and slipped an entire bottle of apple juice into his lap. He walked away after asking if he needed help, still sipping on his drink between stations.

Taeyong tried not to giggle as he cracked open the bottle and poured the juice into his empty cup, sticking the half empty bottle into one of the drawers for safe keeping. His apple juice was contraband. It must be hidden.

When his timer dinged, Taeyong pulled out the tart using an oven mitt, and set it on the rack to cool.

It looked really beautiful and Taeyong felt really proud. He looked around at everyone else’s and he was amazed at how everyone did their own pattern with the veggies (one lady had done an intricate flower pattern in hers and it was stunning). He took the lid off his pan of mushrooms to place them on top of the tart, arranging them as neatly as he could before sprinkling a little more oregano on top.

He took a picture after it had cooled enough to touch and put onto the plate. He sent the picture to Yuta with a tongue out emoji. ‘Angst this.’

He got a string back of rather colourful swears and lots of angry emojis, which made him laugh as he took his cup and plate over to the table to sit down. This time at the table was more relaxed, no one really bothered him other than asking how his food was. Johnny didn’t get to sit down with them since he hadn’t cooked that day so he was over in the corner cleaning up the dishes and sorting them to take over to the washing station. The instructor was kind though and lead a rather nice conversation throughout the meal. He kind of eyed Taeyong’s cup when he had seen the odd colour in the clear plastic, but kept quiet when Taeyong finished it off.

The ratatouille tart turned out so good that Taeyong was almost half convinced to go vegetarian, but he liked beef too much to even attempt giving it up. The jam was a nice touch to keep the tart from getting soggy from the veggies, and it tasted excellent too. He knew that he would be keeping the recipe for a nice treat once in awhile though and maybe making it as a peace offering on days that Yuta got upset with him again.

He stayed long enough to fill out the questionnaire, and waved to all of the workers as he made to leave.

“Bye Taeyong~!” a loud sing-song voice called after him, and Taeyong turned around to see Johnny waving enthusiastically, winking then pointing under his jacket. Taeyong laughed, waved and left, heading to the elevator to leave. Once he was outside and halfway to the bus stop, he pulled the apple juice out from inside his jacket and cracked it open to take a sip with a smile.

Apple juice had never been sweeter.

Yuta looked at him a little weird when he had returned and rinsed out the bottle, putting it on the shelf in the living room that held little sentimental knick-knacks from old competitions and trips. He didn’t say anything, which seemed to be a theme with some people today, and let Taeyong curl up on the couch to sleep.

~*~*~*~

Taeyong was working a couple of days later, when the doorbell dinged as someone entered. Taeyong looked up from his book to greet the customer, only to stop before the ‘welcome’ could leave his lips.

Johnny stood there in all his tall glory, and he smiled when he realised who the cashier was. “Hey! Long time, no see!”

“Hello,” Taeyong said and slipped his bookmark between his pages, putting it down so he could stand.

“What a coincidence. How are you?” Johnny came closer and Taeyong was a bit flustered at seeing Johnny out of his chef clothes. The neat pressed black slacks, black t-shirt, black shoes and chef’s jacket were replaced with tight fitting black jeans, white Converse, and a white t-shirt layered with a blue and black checkered button up left undone.

Taeyong had heard how handsome he had been from birth, but he felt slightly inferior to the tall, well-dressed looks that Johnny had. He looked down at his own black jeans and slightly stained baggy shirt that had become his wardrobe staple in the last couple of months and felt really under dressed.

“Welcome, Chef. I’m doing okay. Just working the morning shift,” Taeyong gestured around the small store and cringed inwardly. Johnny looked over the empty aisles and turned back to him with a smile.

“Then you might be able to help me. I’m in need of a particular pen but everywhere I go is either sold out, or doesn’t even carry it. It’s a fountain pen.”

Taeyong hummed, and stood up from his stool to walk over to the fountain pen case just beside the front counter. “What’s the model?”

Johnny said the name and Taeyong immediately opened the case to pull out the pens made from that brand. He laid them out and gestured Johnny over to look at them. “These are the pens we have out by them, do any look right?”

Johnny picked them up and compared them to a picture he had pulled up on his phone but he shook his head. “No, none look right.”

Taeyong rubbed his chin and then remembered that they had received a shipment the other day and it hadn’t been fully unpacked. He went back to his stool and pulled a clipboard out from under the counter, and flipped through the papers. “What’s the model name or call number?”

Johnny passed his phone over and Taeyong compared the numbers on the webpage to the ones on his paper. “Lemme go into the back. We should have gotten two in our latest shipment. Please wait a bit for me to go find it.”

Johnny looked so relieved and was a little worried about Taeyong who had started to walk away without his cane. “You gonna be okay without your thing?”

Taeyong waved him off and grabbed a box cutter off the shelf right at the entrance of the back room. He had been sitting for the last two hours and he needed the stretch.

He dug around for the right box out of the pile and smiled when he found it. He slit it open and began to dig through the packaging peanuts to find the right pen. It took a couple tries to pull out the right one, but he found it and the other one, and brought them back up front. He left behind the box cutter, and held up one of the boxes holding the pen.

“Found it!” he said cheerily, waving the box and Johnny let out the biggest cry of relief.

“Oh god, thank you so much. My co-worker tried to order this pen for our boss, but she ended up getting an entirely different one so she sent me out to find it in stores. I’ve been to so many stores in the last two hours – it’s disgusting.”

Taeyong laughed at Johnny’s plight, and marked off the pens on his sheet, before setting one on the counter for Johnny. “I’ve been on one of those goose chases before. It’s not fun. Although… mine was for booze back when I first got a leading position for my old dance company.”

“Oh, you dance?”

Taeyong stopped his unboxing of the pen to swallow down the bad taste in his mouth. That was said a little too easily for him. “I- I used to. Not anymore.”

Johnny looked a little solemn as he nodded empathetically. He reached out and patted Taeyong’s hand, and Taeyong tried his hardest to not let the burning tears spill from his eyes. He cleared his throat and opened the box for Johnny to see the pen.

“Ahh, this is it. Thank you so much, Taeyong!” Johnny started clapping excitedly, and Taeyong smiled weakly. He rang up the purchase, closed the box and even wrapped it in the gift wrap free of charge. He tied the bow neatly, and put it in the bag and passed Johnny the receipt for him to sign.

Johnny thanked him profusely, and before he left, he pulled out his phone again.

“Hey, can I have your number?”

Taeyong blanched at the question, but took the phone and typed in his number.

“Thank you. I gotta go, but I’ll give you a text and maybe we can hang out?”

“S-sure!” Taeyong voiced, slightly surprised at how Johnny was pulling so much out of him by barely doing anything.

“Okay, see you, Yongie~.”

Taeyong waved bye and once the door stopped jingling, he realised just what Johnny had called him. He turned red and, to forget what just happened, went to finish unpacking the stock and putting it out.

When his replacement arrived three hours later, Taeyong had been half asleep at the cash register, the shelves full and the sheets all filled out correctly. He was sent off with a sore knee from all the moving he had been doing. He hobbled a little slower than usual to the bus stop, but it was okay because his bus was going to be another fifteen minutes.

As he sat, waiting, his phone buzzed and he saw a text from an unknown number waiting for him.

‘Hey, it’s Johnny! Now you have my number. Give me a message back and we can hang out when you’re free! ^^’

Taeyong saved his number and put him as Chef John. He sent back a message and before he could set his phone back in his pocket, it buzzed again.

‘Are you free on Wednesday? That’s my day off.’

Taeyong checked his calendar and found that he only worked a five-hour shift in the morning, so he replied that he was free after 2pm. He received a confirmation that he’d be picked up at 2 from the store, and he plugged his headphones in and played his music with a smile.

Wednesday came around, and Taeyong found his shift seemed to drag on. There was no shipment that day, so Taeyong could only wander around or read his book while there were no customers. He mostly just read his book or played games on his phone, he didn’t really want to get up.

2pm crawled its way forward and Taeyong signed out as soon as the afternoon worker showed up. He found himself sitting out on the front step waiting for Johnny to appear. He said he’d pick him up but Taeyong didn’t know if he meant by car or bus or whatever.

A rather sleek, large motorbike slid into place in front of the store and Taeyong looked up to see Johnny pulling off the helmet and smiling at him. “Hope you don’t mind!”

Taeyong just sat there with his jaw dropped as Johnny shut off the bike and put down the kickstand. He pulled a second helmet out of the backpack he was wearing and held it out to Taeyong.

“I was thinking of a movie then eating.”

Taeyong took the helmet with a nod. “Okay, that sounds good.”

“Great! We can pick the movie when we get there,” Johnny said as he pulled a long scarf out of his bag. “Can I take your cane?”

Taeyong used it to get back up before passing it over. He was a little confused as to what Johnny was going to do, but he watched the other tie both ends of the scarf tightly around the cane. When he was done, he turned and slid the longer strap over Taeyong’s head like a sash, leaving the cane against his back.

“It won’t fit in a bag so I thought this was a handy solution,” Johnny said with a grin and Taeyong nodded, slightly flabbergasted at the genius of it.

“Which theatre are we going to? The one in this district or a different one?”

“We’re heading back into Seocho since it’s just across the bridge. That okay? I’m assuming you live close by to here?”

“Yeah, yeah, I have an apartment about a fifteen-minute bus ride from here. Don’t worry,” Taeyong said as he slipped on the helmet, fumbling with tightening the straps before Johnny asked if he needed help. Once the straps were snug under his chin, he was faced with the challenge of getting on the bike. It was much taller than his legs could accommodate, and he looked at Johnny in question.

“Try getting up as best you can. Lift your leg up high.” He was holding onto the bike to make it steady enough for Taeyong to get on.

Taeyong slid up the visor and said, “I’m not exactly as flexible as I used to be so don’t make fun of me.”

“Never,” Johnny said with a hand over his heart.

So Taeyong placed a hand against the seat and raised his leg as high as he could to hook it over the bike. He hopped closer, and repositioned his hands to hoist himself onto the seat, looking a little frog-like as he did so. He made the bike wobble a bit, but Johnny steadied it easily enough and Taeyong smiled widely.

“I did it!”

“You did it!”

Johnny gave him a small clap, and got on the bike much more gracefully than Taeyong. Before he put on his helmet, he yelled over his shoulder, “Wrap your arms around my waist; scooch closer.”

Taeyong hesitated, but wrapped his arms around Johnny’s waist, his eyes widening when he felt just how strong the other was. He wiggled closer, and Johnny turned on the bike, and kicked up the stand.

Taeyong couldn’t hear anything over the rush of wind and roar of the engine, but the ease with which Johnny weaved through the streets and cars was admirable and calming. Taeyong let out a couple of hoots as they rode down the bridge into Seocho. He heard something akin to laughter coming from Johnny after one particularly loud whoop, which made him blush and turn silent. He lowered his head and just stared out over the river and the buildings as he waited for them to arrive.

The ride itself seemed too short for the length of distance they covered, when Johnny pulled into the parkade attached to the giant mall housing a theatre. When they found an empty spot and parked, Taeyong had some trouble trying to get down. He had almost fallen but Johnny had reached out and caught him before that happened. Taeyong pulled his cane off himself, and just wrapped the excess scarf around the handle so he didn’t have to untie it.

Carrying their helmets into the mall, Johnny led him over to a locker area and chose the largest one for them to store their helmets in while they went to the movie. They managed to fit both into the locker, and Johnny kept the key in his wallet for safe keeping.

They sat in front of the movie listings for the day discussing which one they should see. Johnny was partial to romcoms, while Taeyong liked his animated adventures. Johnny suggested a horror film, but Taeyong immediately said no, knowing he’d rather not end up crying in fear during the film and scaring the other.

They ended up coming to a fair trade off in choosing the action film that was surprisingly popular. They got their tickets (Johnny paid, much to Taeyong’s chagrin) and they got in line for snacks.

“Can we just share a thing of popcorn?” Taeyong asked, not really feeling like eating much.

“Not that hungry?”

Taeyong shook his head and Johnny patted his shoulder.

“Okay, so one popcorn and what to drink?”

“I want Pepsi,” Taeyong said, pulling out his wallet to take out the cash for their snacks. Johnny tried fighting him about buying the snacks, but Taeyong won when he pointed out that Johnny had gotten the tickets and that he deserved to pay his fair share.

They grabbed their popcorn and two Pepsis, and wandered over to their theatre to be let in.  The movie was amazing and Johnny and Taeyong left the theatre laughing and discussing what happened during the film. Taeyong found that Johnny was very observant and noticed a lot of small things that Taeyong had never thought would actually be so integral to the overall plot.

Johnny took Taeyong to his apartment which was conveniently also in Seocho, and told him he’d cook for him. Taeyong had been a bit confused when they arrived at a complex when Johnny told him he’d take him to this great place for food.

“There’s a restaurant here? Or nearby?” Taeyong asked after he pulled off his helmet.

“Oh, yeah, it’s called Johnny’s Kitchen,” Johnny said with a cat-ate-the-canary grin. Taeyong gave him a thoroughly unamused look at which the other just laughed. “C’mon, I can make whatever you want.”

Taeyong followed him over to the elevator and they took it up to the twelfth floor. Johnny let him into a rather nice but sparsely decorated apartment. The kitchen was something out of Taeyong’s dreams, containing a full oven and stove combo that was very uncommon in Korean kitchens.

Jars were lining the backsplash and labelled in English with what seemed to be sugar, flour and the sole Korean labelled jar of red pepper flakes. A bowl full of citrus fruits and other fruits sat beside the jar of pepper flakes.  The counter was made of wood and looked well cared for and Taeyong forgot to look around the rest of the place as he was attracted to the beautiful kitchen. It was just so pleasing on the eye.

“It’s… wow,” Taeyong could barely think of a good way to describe just how he felt about the kitchen.

“I had it custom renovated when I moved here. Growing up in America, everyone had one of these guys so it just seemed fitting that I bring a little piece of home with me here,” Johnny said and patted the stove with a small heartfelt smile decorating his lips. “Also, I get to make pizza and cookies any time I want, so that’s a plus.”

Taeyong laughed, and touched the smooth wood countertop, amazed at how clean it was.

“So, what should I make?”

Taeyong hummed, thinking about what he’d like to eat. He’d had a packed lunch box hours ago but it hadn’t been what he was looking for.

“Italian?” He turned to look at Johnny who nodded sagely.

“Chicken or pork?”

“Chicken!”

“I’m on it, my man. Go sit down at the table. I’ll get you to chop up the salad while I make the entrée,” Johnny said and gestured to the small two-person table in the area separating the kitchen and the living room. Taeyong sat down and was given a bunch of vegetables, a cutting board, knife and a bowl.

“I wash everything after buying it before it goes in my fridge, don’t worry,” Johnny said as he went back to the counter to deal with heating his pan and pot of water. Taeyong found himself being distracted by just how fluid Johnny moved in his kitchen.

This was the trademark of a man who knew his craft.

Taeyong chopped up the veggies and lettuce and added them to the bowl. “Hey, what dressing am I putting on this?”

“I have a couple of balsamic vinegars in that cupboard. Grab whichever you like. Then add some olive oil, garlic and Dijon mustard for a dressing.” Johnny pointed to a cupboard close to Taeyong, then turned back to squeeze lemon right into the pan. Pasta was boiling softly on another element, and Taeyong was surprised at just how fast Johnny had made the entire kitchen smell amazing.

He pulled out the four bottles of vinaigrette and sniffed at each one. He ended up picking the plain balsamic vinegar, and after a few confirmations from Johnny, ended up making a rather delicious dressing that he poured over the salad and mixed in.

Taeyong cleaned up the table and washed the dishes thoroughly so Johnny wouldn’t have to later, placing them on the rack to dry as Johnny finished cooking their meal and plating it.

“Done!” Johnny said proudly, setting the plates down on the table. He had twirled the fettucine neatly in the middle of the plate and placed the chicken on top, drizzling the lemon sauce over it and garnished it with what looked like parsley. “Chicken piccata on fettucine with Taeyong’s chopped salad.”

Taeyong smiled and patted his hands dry on a towel that Johnny handed him earlier.

“It looks and smells so good,” Taeyong commented as he sat down and picked up the fork and knife Johnny had set beside the plate. The dish was as good as it smelt. The citrus wasn’t too overpowering, and the extra drizzle coated the pasta just right. The salad was bright and complemented the entrée perfectly and Taeyong found himself silent as he inhaled the food.

During their silence, Johnny brought up being casual with him. “I know we’ve been kinda formal and polite all this time, but I’d rather be casual. Is that okay? I mean, you’re sitting in my house.”

Taeyong looked up from his plate, mouth full, before nodding. He swallowed and spoke, “You’re only five months older than me, so yeah, for sure.”

“Wait, I’m the older one?”

Taeyong laughed, nodding again. “Yeah, you told your birthday to the one lady who was trying to hook you up with her granddaughter at the BBQ class and I realised we were the same age. Don’t worry.”

“Wha- when’s your birthday?”

“July 1st, Hyung.”

“I gotta write this down,” Johnny muttered as he pulled out his phone to put the memo in his calendar. “I assumed you must have been older than me, but god, who woulda thought that I’d be the older one?”

“It’s okay, Hyung. Don’t stress over it,” Taeyong reached over to pat Johnny’s wrist. Feeling a slight tingle from the touch, Taeyong flushed and pulled his hand back to finish eating.

“Oh, I forgot to grab us drinks.” Johnny got up and started digging in the fridge, pulling out a sealed bottle. Taeyong listened as the other peeled off the seal, before twisting off the metal holding in the cork, causing it to pop out and make the liquid fizz.

Johnny poured them both wine glasses full of the bubbling yellow liquid and he returned with them. He passed one to Taeyong as he sipped at the other.

“It’s just sparkling apple juice, so don’t worry.”

Taeyong was very touched that Johnny had remembered that he couldn’t have alcohol, and he sipped at the fizzy juice with glee.

When they finished, they washed the dishes together, Johnny washing and Taeyong drying, before they moved to Johnny’s comfortable couch – probably more comfortable than Taeyong’s favourite sleeping spot.

They chatted about Johnny’s experiences in America, his venture into culinary school, then his move to Korea. Taeyong found Johnny just as charming as he was the first time, and his smile was just as genuine as the one he was staring at over his glass of juice.

“Okay, enough about me, I want to know about you. You’re like this code I can’t quite decipher,” Johnny said after a good round of laughter. “You mentioned dancing before?”

Taeyong found his smile disappearing. He knew this would probably come up. “Yeah, I used to be in a pretty famous dance company. We’d enter competitions around the world, and we even won a few which allowed us to hold special classes too, and it was honestly the thing I could see myself doing for the rest of my life. Once I made a name for myself, I was thinking of opening my own place, but after – after…”

He took a deep breath.

“My knee had been hurting for a few days and I just thought it was strain – it’s common in dancers. But I just wrapped up my knee and kept on dancing. Later that day, I had to run out to go grab some groceries for Yuta, my roommate, and myself. Well, I was crossing the street when this driver blew the light. I tried to run out of the way, but my knee flared up and-,”

He made an impact noise and stared down at the bubbles caught in the liquid in his glass. “Now I’m this 25-year-old guy walking around with a cane and broken dreams.”

“You were told you can’t dance again?”

Taeyong nodded and looked up to see Johnny frowning, a look Taeyong wasn’t sure should belong on the older man’s kind face.

The guilt crept its way into his heart and he felt like he shouldn’t have said anything. “Sorry, sorry, I just- I hate talking about it.”

Taeyong covered his eyes, swallowing to try to combat the knot in his throat and not let Johnny see that he was about to cry. The couch shifted and his glass was taken out of his hand. There was a clinking noise, and soon, two arms were wrapping around Taeyong.

That warm, solid embrace fully broke the flimsy dam Taeyong had tried to build. He sobbed into Johnny’s shoulder, letting the scorching tears run down his cheeks and wet the shirt his face was pressed against. They stayed there for ages, before Taeyong could no longer force anymore salty liquid from his eyes, and was left hiccoughing in distress.

Johnny ran his hands over Taeyong’s back, making soothing noises until Taeyong quieted down and was left clinging to Johnny. This wasn’t exactly what he wanted to show his new friend, and he felt a bit of shame drape over him.

But Johnny continued hugging him, and started carding his fingers through Taeyong’s hair, making Taeyong relax and that little blanket of shame just slipped right off. He relaxed and eventually he closed his eyes and fell asleep, curled up in Johnny’s non-judging arms.

He was woken up to sounds of an alarm somewhere off in the distance. He found that he had been lain across the couch and wrapped in a blanket with a pillow tucked under his head. He lifted his head and the alarm went silent. There was shuffling noises and a ruffled Johnny appeared in the doorway to what seemed to be his bedroom, before the taller stumbled over to the kitchen to start up the coffee machine.

Taeyong just watched as the other blinked and sluggishly moved back to his bedroom. There were sounds of water running and Taeyong realised the bathroom was attached to Johnny’s room rather than having an entrance out to the main area. The coffee pot bubbled and percolated delicious smelling ambrosia, forcing Taeyong to sit up and fold up the blanket. He was glad he had worn comfy athletic pants the day before due to his early morning physio session.

When Johnny appeared again, he looked less ruffled, but still just as sleepy. He went over to the pot and pulled out two mugs and poured enough coffee in both before walking over with one to sit on the couch beside Taeyong. He lazily pointed at the other cup left on the counter, and then at the fridge. Taeyong took it as a cue that he could help himself to the other mug and whatever he needed to suit his taste.

He struggled to get off the couch since his knee was so stiff, but he managed and stumbled over to the counter. He grabbed the jar of sugar, and poured in a spoonful or two, before looking to see if Johnny had any milk to put in. He did, and Taeyong put in a small amount. He set the milk back in its spot and turned back to stir his coffee. He sipped at it and was pleased that it tasted just right. He limped back to the couch and sat beside Johnny, whose eyes were still heavily lidded, but was mechanically sipping at his own black as night coffee. Taeyong thought it was cute that Johnny wasn’t very chatty upon waking, and left him in peace until he was ready.

They sat there in silence for a good fifteen minutes, before Johnny moved and said the first word.

“I can drive you back over the bridge for you to catch the bus back home. I should have enough time before I have to go to work,” he said as he tipped back his mug one last time. He got back up and held out a hand to take Taeyong’s own empty mug. Taeyong passed it over and Johnny set them in the sink, before walking over to open the blinds behind the couch.

Bright sunlight came pouring in and both men groaned in pain at the assault on their tender eyes. It seemed that it was later in the morning than Taeyong had anticipated.

He checked his phone and saw that it was 9:30 in the morning, and Yuta had texted him multiple times asking where he was.

The last text message was a mixture of Japanese and Korean back at 6am and Taeyong knew that he was probably going to have a very angry friend on his hands once he got home.

He sent back a message saying he was fine, that he would be home within an hour, and to not worry.

Johnny reappeared in fresh clothes, much akin to Taeyong’s athletic wear and plain t-shirt combo and they headed out the door.

“Sorry,” Taeyong said as they stood in the elevator going down to the underground parking area. Johnny waved him off, telling him it was fine, and Taeyong knew he was telling the truth.

The drive back over the bridge was just as exhilarating as the day before, even though it was a bit more congested. Taeyong wondered what it would be like to let the wind blow through his hair instead of it just pulling at his clothes and knocking his cane against his back. Johnny parked near a stop that the bus Taeyong needed would stop at. Taeyong slipped off a bit more gracefully this time, and started untying the scarf from his cane. He passed it back to Johnny who tied it around his waist, and they exchanged goodbyes and a hug. Taeyong waved goodbye as Johnny peeled away to make it back home before he had to run off to work.

Despite feeling slightly embarrassed at having fallen asleep and spent the night there, Taeyong didn’t feel quite ashamed enough to never want to see Johnny’s face again. As weeks passed by, they spent most Wednesdays together, switching between the other’s apartments. Johnny would constantly message him and pull Taeyong to go out and do things, whether it was go to the movies, the park, or just go on rides around the city. Taeyong even researched cool things for them to go do when Wednesday rolled around and the rest of week started to pale in comparison to the day he spent with the chef.

Johnny and Yuta got on like a house on fire once they met, and soon enough, some Wednesday mornings were spent baking treats and cooking lunches for Yuta and some of the others at the company. Taeyong never went with Johnny to deliver the food, which he could tell bothered the other a lot, but Johnny didn’t push which Taeyong was grateful for.

Sometimes Taeyong would crash at Johnny’s place, but would share Johnny’s large comfy mattress rather than curled up on the couch like he had the first night. The only thing Johnny hadn’t been privy to in Taeyong’s place had been Taeyong’s own bedroom – it was still the trashed mess it had been before they met and it was going to stay that way. Over time, Taeyong had been weaned off his dependence on his cane, and was only allowed to use it if he stressed his knee, which was rarely since he no longer moved as much as he used to – although he kept active enough with his daily exercises and activities with Johnny. His cane ended up gathering dust in a pile somewhere in the black hole that had replaced Taeyong’s room.

As their friendship progressed, he started noticing that Yuta and Johnny would disappear or whisper in low voices about something. Taeyong had a paranoid inkling that it was always about him whenever he caught them, but they never spoke of it when he asked and he didn’t feel like pushing for an answer.

One Wednesday, far past the spring thaw, Taeyong and Johnny were lazing on Taeyong’s couch, watching Ratatouille. Taeyong was stretched out with his feet resting in Johnny’s lap as the older man gently massaged and rubbed at them. He felt so comfortable and relaxed and found himself wishing that this moment would last forever, something that he found he was wishing for a lot during their times together.

They had reached the part where Linguine tells the kitchen staff about Remy and Taeyong was watching intently. He was sipping at a mug of hot chocolate that Johnny had made from scratch when a large bang out in the public hallway scared Taeyong enough to slop the warm liquid all over himself.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Taeyong cursed and pulled off the sopping shirt to ball up to throw in the laundry. His entire outfit was going in a load all by itself. Johnny paused the movie as Taeyong ran to change his clothes. He had just finished pulling on clean boxers when his door opened, and he whipped his head around in fright to stare at Johnny looking around in horror as he held a wet cloth.

“Holy fucking _shit_ ,” he breathed out, looking around at the carnage of what used to be a neatly organised room.

Clothes decorated the floor, the posters were still torn and half hanging off the wall, with some gouges in the drywall from the pins being dragged through. A shelving unit that used to hold Taeyong’s trophies was now half smashed and leaning dangerously to the side with the former contents spilt out around it on the floor.

“Taeyong…,” he started and Taeyong couldn’t handle him saying any more.

“Stop!” he cried, and stumbled forward to push Johnny out of his room, “Don’t say anything. Just please leave.”

He knew Johnny was much stronger than him, but he still tried to move the larger man out. Johnny didn’t budge, instead he wrapped his hands around Taeyong’s wrists firmly. Taeyong was wrestled into sitting down on the unkempt bed, with Johnny standing over him. Feeling hopeless, Taeyong just curled into a ball, and covered his face with his hands.

“Jesus, Yuta mentioned it was bad, but I didn’t really think the guy who cleans his kitchen more compulsively than me could let this be.”

Taeyong let out a little warble of a cry at those words. This was more embarrassing than the time he had split his pants trying to get on Johnny’s motorbike a couple of months ago. This just drilled its way straight to the core of Taeyong’s heart and stayed there, burning.

“Please leave,” he managed to choke out.

“No,” Johnny replied and Taeyong wrenched his hands away from his face to yell at him.

“ _Leave!_ ”

“No!”

Johnny was still standing in front of him, looking down at him with electricity crackling from his usual soft and friendly gaze.

“I didn’t want to push you because I wanted you to warm up to accepting what happened as a new beginning, but I can see that I made the wrong judgment,” Johnny sighed and slid his free hand through his hair, “It’s been a year, Taeyong!”

“So, what?” Taeyong spat back, his hackles rising in defence of his actions. “I can’t do anything! I can’t go back and seeing everyone else just fucking hurts, okay? I can’t dance any more!”

“No, no, don’t say that. I’ve seen the doctor’s prognosis. You can’t go back to the eighty hours of practices a week and all those competitions. He didn’t say that you can’t dance any more,” Johnny said and Taeyong felt that burning turning to boiling.

“You saw _what_?”

“Yuta gave it to me, and I’m glad he did.” Johnny crossed his arms and Taeyong just felt so violated. His friend and roommate, the only one who he could stomach seeing, had gone behind him and given his private information to someone. Whether it was Johnny or not, Yuta was going to get a whole face full of an angry Taeyong once he got home.

Taeyong could barely formulate any words to express himself so he just thrashed and pulled at his bedsheets. “You shouldn’t have read that!”

Tears were springing up in his eyes, burning as they appeared, much like that shrapnel still hissing away in his heart. “I can’t go back! I won’t be allowed!”

“No. No! Stop that. Stop being so defeatist when you talk about going back! I bet you any money if you actually showed up, you’d find that your boss is willing to take you back!” Johnny was yelling now. “You’ve taught classes before. You enjoyed them and people enjoyed them too, because you were happy. You don’t have to stop so completely! You can still have your dream, Taeyong.”

“Just stop, Youngho. I can’t,” Taeyong choked through the tears that were falling freely now.

“No, rather it’s because you won’t!” Johnny said firmly, his own voice sounding choked up. “I like you a lot, Taeyong. I really _fucking_ like you, so fucking much and I want you to be happy! I want you to be able to really show me just how beautifully you can move. I’ve seen you when you think no one’s looking or you hear a good song, and honestly, you can’t stop. You can’t!”

Those familiar hands gently wrapped around his wrists and Taeyong looked up to see Johnny blinking back tears as well. He let out another sob after hearing something he didn’t know he needed.  

“Stop sabotaging yourself and trying to hide it. It hurts to see how much pain you’re causing yourself over this. There’s no need,” Johnny said this with the most conviction in a cracking voice.

Taeyong let out a pitiful whine of Johnny’s name and the other bent down to pull Taeyong into a hug. The grip Johnny had as he held onto him was strong and soothing enough to fight the burning deep inside.

As Taeyong cried into Johnny’s shoulder for the second time, he felt tears drip down onto his own shoulder and realised that Johnny had started crying too. It rose the confidence in him to stop his own tears. He sniffled and reached up to wipe at his cheeks, brushing the water off on his boxers so he can comfort Johnny. He made Johnny look at him and he started wiping away the tears that trailed down puffy cheeks.

“If you keep crying, I’m gonna cry more,” Taeyong said, making a sound between a laugh and a choke and Johnny huffed. “Don’t make me. I can cry on cue.”

Johnny laughed and just pulled Taeyong down to press their foreheads together.

“No- no more tears. No more pity parties.” Johnny sniffed, wiping away a stray tear himself. “Just… stop with this and get back to dancing.”

Taeyong teared up again, but he didn’t let any fall. “Okay,” he said thickly.

Johnny nodded, believing him wholeheartedly. Taeyong lifted his hands up and held onto Johnny’s wrists, feeling the other’s pulse pump wildly beneath his fingertips.

“I- I wasn’t kidding though… about,” Johnny swallowed, “liking you.”

Taeyong squeezed his wrists and leant forward to brush a small kiss against the apple of Johnny’s cheek.

“I know,” Taeyong confirmed, “I’m… not sure if I wholly feel the same, but you always make me feel so light and like everything will be okay that I’m sure I can meet you at that point.”

The smile Taeyong received was enough to make the shrapnel fizzle away into nothingness.

They both stood up and Taeyong stumbled back over to his clean laundry pile to pull on a pair of shorts and shirt. He was a bit sticky still, and he found the cloth Johnny had laying in the doorway. He grabbed it without a care, and quickly wiped himself clean, ahead of putting the clothes on. When he turned to pull Johnny back out to the living room, he jumped in surprise at how close Johnny had stepped forward.

Taeyong looked up in confusion, and his eyes flickered to the hands rising to gently cup his jaw then to Johnny who started leaning down. Taeyong’s head tipped back a smidge, and his lips connected to Johnny’s soft ones.

The kiss made Taeyong’s skin tingle from his head all the way down to his feet and he found himself leaning forward to press more firmly against Johnny. It was rather chaste, but it was one of the nicest feeling ones Taeyong had ever had.

Johnny pulled back, and stepped back, blushing fiercely. “Um, no more giving up. I won’t let you.”

With that, he shuffled out of the room, leaving Taeyong standing and watching him leave.

“Hey, you can’t just…”

Taeyong jogged after him and found him flopped onto the couch, looking rather embarrassed and flustered. He swiped the remote off the coffee table, and crawled onto the couch to snuggle up to Johnny.

“Hi, Johnny,” he said in English with a sickly-sweet voice. “Let watch Rat Patootie.”

Johnny couldn’t hold back his laugh, and wrapped an arm around Taeyong’s shoulders. “Okay, let’s watch Rat Patootie.”

It took a couple of weeks before Taeyong felt confident enough to get close to his old company, but he had been practising some old routines he managed to find videos for. He had consulted his doctor after Johnny had rebuffed him after a few fits of defeat – keeping with his promise of not letting Taeyong give up, and found that yes, he could teach and could dance for small amounts, but he had to stay away from entering competitions himself and the grueling hours taken to prepare for them.

It was another Wednesday and Taeyong sat beside Johnny in the backseat of a cab with a tote packed full of freshly made desserts.

“Baking wasn’t what I focussed on, honestly, but it’s a nice treat after an amazing meal. It just takes an extra pinch of patience,” Johnny had mentioned back when he had first started making Taeyong’s old colleagues lunch. Taeyong was nervous as hell when the front entrance came into view and the taxi pulled up to the kerb. Johnny passed the fare over, and got out. He looked more like he belonged than Taeyong felt, who got out of the car feeling burdened and hunched over.

“Come on, Yongie,” Johnny stretched out a hand, knowing that Taeyong would not move any closer if he didn’t have a physical anchor. Taeyong shyly entwined his fingers with Johnny’s and let himself be led into the building he hadn’t seen in over a year.

A familiar voice greeted them upon entrance and Taeyong looked from behind Johnny’s shoulder to see one of his favourite old dance partners.

“Hey, Ten!” Johnny greeted cheerily, and when Ten saw who was holding hands with Johnny, he started screaming.

The faint thud of music that usually filled the place disappeared and more faces started appearing while Ten fawned aggressively over Taeyong. His hair was tugged, as were his clothes and cheeks before he was crushed into a hug as the younger male sobbed into his shoulder.

“We missed you so much, Hyung,” Ten cried, wiping his tears away with the heel of his hand as he still clung to Taeyong.

Taeyong was a bit affronted at the strong display of emotion, but he immediately regretted trying to cut this part of his life out when he saw the other people he spent so long with smiling at him.

There was a loud cheer, and he was crushed into one of the tightest and heaviest group hugs he’d ever experienced. Everything was just so overwhelming that he ended up crying, and getting teasing remarks over how he was still such a softie after so long. He enjoyed reconnecting with everyone and he thought there wasn’t a dry eye among them as they shared what had happened in the past year.

Eventually, Johnny butted in saying he had food to give Taeyong a break. Ten ran off with the bag of sweets, yelling before a few others chased after him to get some before he ate it all.

Taeyong was left standing there with a smug looking Yuta, and a fond looking Johnny as the others scattered to eat the food.

“If I had known getting laid would get him here, I would have done it myself,” Yuta said crudely, and Taeyong smacked him, giving him a look to cut it out, but his red cheeks gave away more than he could have mustered. They hadn’t gotten that far at all, it was too soon. He looked away from both, only to feel a hand press against the small of his back.

“Well, well, well, Lee Taeyong. Long time, no see.”

Taeyong turned around to see his old boss standing in the entrance with her hands on her hips.

“Hello, ma’am,” he said nervously, chewing on his lip and bowing in her direction.

“You finally came to visit us, I’m glad. We’ve all missed you,” BoA walked forward and pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back tightly, that feeling of disappointing everyone coming back when they pulled away and she smiled at him.

“I wasn’t joking when I told Johnny I would offer you a position as a teacher here. It won’t be full time because I don’t want you to get injured again, but part time is enough,” she spoke while smoothing out his hair, an old gesture that made Taeyong tear up again because it was like time hadn’t passed and he had just finished practice.

“Noona, I’d… I’d really like that,” he choked out, and she smiled wider.

“Good. I never actually took you out of our system after a chat with your doctor, so you can start whenever again. Let me know and we can schedule you in as soon as possible.”

She left just as suddenly as she arrived and Taeyong was left reeling.

“Told you, Yong,” Johnny said simply and Taeyong reached over to poke him in the ribs.

“I know you did!” he said indignantly, “I just needed to hear her say it. Kwon BoA is nothing if not a lady of her word!”

Johnny and Yuta exchanged looks and they started chuckling.

“Alright, you two gross me out. Go away and have fun while I slave away in a room with no A/C.” Yuta waved them off and herded them out the door, shutting it behind them.

“So, what next?” Johnny asked as they stood on the front step.

Instead of replying, Taeyong reached up to pull Johnny’s head down to kiss him square on the mouth. It was a quick kiss, and Taeyong ran off, giggling, feeling elated that things were going to be okay. Johnny gave a shout and chased after him.

Later that night, they were curled up together in Johnny’s bed, just chatting about the latest anime they had started watching. When the conversation lulled, Taeyong leant forward to give Johnny another kiss.

“Thank you, Youngho,” he whispered against Johnny’s plump lips. “I don’t know what I’d be doing right now if you hadn’t been so kind to me that day at the class. Thank you.”

Johnny just smiled and pressed down for another kiss, deeper than the last, and gently pulled Taeyong’s knee over his hip. His fingers brushed against Taeyong’s surgery scars, causing him to shudder and gasp into the kiss, allowing Johnny’s tongue to enter.

They spent awhile just kissing until Taeyong pulled away.

“I’m thinking of cleaning my room this weekend,” he said between deep breaths as Johnny peppered kisses down his jaw.

“I’m proud of you,” was whispered into his ear and Taeyong turned red. He pulled Johnny closer and kissed him on his brow.

“I like you a lot,” he said back, only to be rolled onto his back and crushed by a completely embarrassed and ecstatic Johnny. “Hey!” He was cut off with a searing kiss and hands gripping onto his hair, stealing his breath.

**Author's Note:**

> Recipes that I found that are featured in this fic, in case anyone was wondering. Other things mentioned is just me throwing shit on. I hope you enjoyed this! Bon appetit~!
> 
> Grilled chicken cordon bleu: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/bobby-flay/grilled-chicken-cordon-bleu-recipe-1952654
> 
> Ratatouille tart with caramelised onion-tomato jam: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ratatouille-tart-with-caramelized-onion-tomato-jam-1961041
> 
> Chicken piccata: http://www.jocooks.com/main-courses/poultry-main-courses/lemon-chicken-piccata/
> 
> Salad dressing: http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/balsamic-vinaigrette-234241


End file.
